And straws that seem designed to last forever.
(Let me dwell on straws for just a minute.
Almost weightless, they roll and float with ease,
Putting up no resistance, allowing
The sea to flow through, as if sipping eternity)
Bottle caps are close runner-ups
For riding out the Apocalypse.
Their work of sealing long forgotten
They seem to be enjoying their retirement,
Contributing points of unnatural color to the beach:
Primary colors and black and white.
It does not escape me that my bucket is made of plastic
As is my bathing suit and T-shirt.
And my shoes and my socks and my crown
Which is a composite of ceramic and plastic
And my hearing aids.
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